


Seeing Green

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Jealous!Ketch, Light Bondage, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: Ketch catches your eyes wandering during a case and he is not pleased.





	Seeing Green

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my follower celebration over on tumblr (@thewhiterabbit42). Prompts were: Ketch/stethoscope/green.

You stepped into your room back at the British Men of Letters compound, not even bothering to flick the light switch before you closed the door behind you.  That was your first mistake.  Your second was not realizing that Ketch had made it back before you.

 

“I saw the way you were looking at him,” his voice was low and dark, and the look on his face wasn’t any better as he flipped on the light, illuminating his figure near the door.  You couldn’t help but arch a brow.  Was he really wearing one of the white lab coats?  And… was that a stethoscope around his neck?

 

“Arthur --”

 

“Mr. Ketch,” he corrected and your back immediately went straight.  

 

You still couldn’t help the sass that fell from your lips.  “A doctor’s outfit?  Really?”

 

He pushed off from the wall, the slow stalk he made toward you filled with warning.  “Remember who you’re dealing with, Ms. Y/L/N.”

 

He took hold of your face, fingers digging uncomfortably into the sides of your chin as he stared formidably down at you.  You swallowed, recalling what happened the last time you disobeyed his bedroom counterpart.  The spanking itself had been oh-so-delightful.  The unexpected eight hour car ride the next day, however, had not.  

 

“Yes, sir,” you replied, clearing your face of any amusement.  

 

“Good girl,” he praised, his words sending a jolt of heat straight between your legs.  “Take off your clothes.”

 

You did as you were told, slipping out of your things as efficiently as possible.  When the last garment had been shed, his eyes trailed over your skin, gaze appraising as he began to walk a slow circle around you.

 

“Do you know why it is I’ve chosen this outfit?” He asked.

 

You had an idea, one that involved Mick and Ketch having to recently masquerade as physicians and you admiring the way both looked doing so.

 

“Because I like it when you play doctor?” You teased.  

 

He halted his steps, stopping directly behind you.  You knew better than to turn your head and look at him, and the levity faded once more beneath his continued seriousness.

 

“ _Just_ me?”

 

“No,” you told him, knowing you’d been caught and that lying was even worse than openly admiring someone else.  

 

“Good girl,” his breath ghosted along the back of your neck, causing goosebumps to ripple down along your spine, and when he spoke again, his mouth was right next to your ear.  “Though it was naughty of you to look at Mick like that… and what happens to naughty girls?”

 

“They get punished,” you answered automatically.

 

“They get punished,” he agreed.  “And your punishment is you don’t get to touch me tonight.”

 

You bit your lip to keep yourself from giving _him_ any.  It wasn’t just that you wanted to feel him beneath your fingertips, you _needed_ to.  Touch was forbidden outside of the bedroom, and it had been days since you’d had your hands on him.

 

You must have _really_ hit a nerve for him to be doing this.

 

“Understand?” He prompted when you said nothing.

 

“Yes,” you said, more petulantly than you should have.  

 

“Yes what?” He demanded, though you saw the way his lip curled slightly in amusement. _Bastard._  

 

“Yes, _sir_ ,” you amended, doing your best to look contrite, even though your eyes were at least six shades of defiant as you glared at him out of the corner of your eye.  

 

“Give me your hands.”

 

Without hesitating, you put them behind your back, offering your wrists to him.  He pulled the stethoscope down from his neck, the rubber tubing chafing slightly  as he secured your wrist with it.  The object was neither designed to restrain nor would it hold if you put any significant effort into getting free.  More than anything, it was meant to drive his point home: you _would_ obey him, now, and when he told you _you belonged to him_.

 

“Desk.   _Now_.”

 

You moved across the room, thankful you kept that particular piece of furniture clear.  It did seem to be his favorite, after all.  You laid yourself across it, lifting your hips slightly as you presented yourself for him.  

 

The sound of his zipper had heat gathering at your core again, the anticipation building in a steady thrum through your veins.  

 

“Does it make you wet when you make me jealous?” He purred.  You closed your eyes, becoming lost in his his accent, in the heady combination of threat and desire that ran beneath his tone.  

 

“Yes,” you breathed.    

 

“Does it make you wet knowing I’m not going to go easy on you tonight?”

 

Oh god you were aching _so_ badly to be touched by him.  You’d been aching for days, ever since the first time he caught you looking at Mick.    

 

“Yes,” you groaned, stretching up onto your toes as you eagerly waited to be filled by him.  

 

“Good,” he snarled, lining himself up with you before snapping his hips roughly against yours.  He buried himself in one quick thrust, and you let out a sharp, ambiguous cry as you and the desk jerked forward.  

 

“Color,” he commanded, freezing in place.  

 

“Green,” you moaned, arching your back as you pushed back against him, taking him even deeper.  “So fucking green.”

 

“I’m going to fuck you so fast and hard you’ll be feeling me for days,” he growled.

 

For all his callous comments, for the eerily detached way he seemed to do his job, it was these moments that told you he cared more than he would ever show.  The man he tried to act like would have just kept slamming into you, leaving it up to you to use the color system if it became too much, instead of waiting for your consent before he began.  

 

Yet, he always waited.

 

You craned your head around, your eyes locking with his, and this time there was a softness underlying the word. “Green.”

 

There was the briefest flash of tenderness as he ran his hand down along the side of your cheek, just before pushing your face down onto the desk and making good on his promise.

  
  
  



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